The Serpent's Tree
by what do we do now
Summary: 'The pain makes me feel alive; at the time when I feel cold, empty, dead.  It stops the vacant void, thought it does not fill it.' A dangerous love between one third of the Golden Trio and a high ranking Death Eater, but can their love survive?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world or any of the characters which I write about. Everything is J.K Rowling's. I don't claim to possess anything. **

_This is the start of my new story, centring around the relationship of Hermione Granger and Antonin Dolohov. The story should have between twenty and twenty- five chapters, and I should hopefully be updating every two weeks at the latest. __Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks. _

** ...**

**Prologue**

A single tear rolled down a young witch's face.

Her usually tanned skin had turned pale and pasty. Her vibrant and bouncy brown curls had turned limp and lifeless. Her hazel eyes which held so much life, deceased to shine. Already, after only five days of capture, she felt broken. She chastised herself for her tears. _Hermione Granger does not show her weakness,_ she scolded in her thoughts. She was the only female member of the golden trio, and whilst she was commonly known for wearing her emotions on her sleeve, she knew since the war commenced she would have to change that.

The reason for this sole tear that found its way from Hermione's eye was the smirking man that was now crouching down in front of her.

"I believe we've met," he drawled cruelly as he placed his large, rough, coarse hand on her soft face, wiping the tear away with his psalm. His face was dirty, not in the conventional sense as though he was covered in mud, but because of his wounds. Deep bloody cuts, vicious claw marks, and sickly black bruises littered his skin, leaving a menacing image in the place of his once handsome presence. A thin, only days old beard, shaped the outside of his lips, aging the already middle-aged man considerably. His frame was large and his physique was of a young man almost half his age. Hermione shuddered as he moved his face closer to her own. The thumb on his hand that was still attached to her face moved in small circles. He brought his lips to her ear before continuing, "But in case you've forgotten, my name is Antonin Dolohov."

Hermione pulled her legs inward so that her knees where touching her pale and lifeless face. Her arms crept around her bent legs almost as if they would protect her from any danger that may attempt to harm her.

"Oh you don't need to be afraid of me, Princess; I won't hurt you," he said as he moved to stand up straight, towering over her small sitting down frame. "Yet."

_July 1996_

_Groggily, Hermione opened her eyes, to be met with a fierce bright light that illuminated the entire room. Slowly she sat up from her lying down position to be faced with the realisation that she was in the hospital wing at school. She crinkled her forehead with frustration. The last thing she remembered was in the Department of Mysteries; she along with Harry and Neville had been fighting several masked Death Eaters. It was a foggy image that met her mind after that; Hermione was unclear as to the events that followed, although it was painstakingly obvious that something bad had happened._

"_Ah, Miss Granger, you're awake. How are you feeling?" Hermione jumped slightly at the sound of her Headmasters voice, causing her to blush slightly at her obliviousness. Professor Dumbledore was stood at the very end of her bed, staring at her with a smile permanently etched on his face._

"_I'm feeling fine Professor, but I must know what happened," Hermione said with urgency, attempting to sit up even further but wincing as a sharp piercing pain that shot through her back. "Please, everything seems rather disorientated after we were found by the Death Eaters."_

"_Yet another one of Potter's marvellous plans," came the snarky voice of Professor Snape as he stepped through the Hospital Wing doors before closing them carefully._

_Hermione looked at the two Professors' with confusion._

"_Miss Granger," started Professor Dumbledore after noticing her puzzled expression, "do you remember the reason concerning why you're in the hospital wing?"_

"_No," answered Hermione as she scrunched her face up with concentration. "Like I said before, it's all a blur." _

"_You were hit by a strong and fairly lethal curse," the Headmaster continued. Hermione lifted her hand to cover mouth as a gasp flew out before she could attempt to mask her shock. "Luckily, you have been fully healed and I believe Madame Pomfrey is releasing you from her care either tomorrow or the day after, depending on how well your body has reacted to her potions."_

"_What type of curse was I hit with?" Hermione asked as her eyes darted between the two men stood before her, both of which were staring at her with something she could only describe as caution. _

"_Now my dear," started Professor Dumbledore, smiling brightly at the girl, "I don't think it's something you need to concern yourself with. You're better now, and have been completely healed; that's all that matters."_

_The Headmaster patted Hermione's foot lightly, before taking his leave from the Hospital Wing. Hermione watched him leave and close the double doors behind him, before staring at the Professor who remained stood at her bedside._

"_It is most curious Miss Granger," began Professor Snape, eyeing the girl carefully, "how you managed to best one of the strongest dark wizards in the Dark Lords inner circle." _

"_Sir?"_

"_Antonin Dolohov was one of the founders of the curse you were hit with," explained the Professor. "And whilst the Headmaster chooses not to disclose the true extent of the curse, I believe it is your right to know how truly lethal the curse you were hit with is. It is rather odd, that you have escaped such an attack with just a single scar." He looked as though he was contemplating the young witch for several minutes. "Unless of course, that was his main intention." _

_With that he swept out of the room, leaving Hermione by herself; fear over taking her like she had never experienced before. _

"Why don't you just kill me?" Hermione asked with a stronger voice than she'd been able to achieve in previous days.

"Now where's the fun in that?" the Death Eater replied with a question to match her own. A lifeless laugh left his lips as he watched the young girl in front of him wither with discomfort.

"They'll come after you. Keep me alive or kill me, the order; my friends, will come after you," Hermione said with as much force and strength and she could muster.

"Your precious order already thinks you're dead; so why would they waste resources and people just for the vengeance of a mudblood?" he asked rhetorically, shrugging his shoulders with nonchalance.

"Because this _mudblood_," she spat, "is worth ten times as many as you, or any of your other disgusting death eater friends."

Quickly, within a blink of an eye, Antonin had grabbed hold of Hermione's wrist, tight enough to ensure that there would most definitely be a bruise the following day, and dragged her upwards so that she was stood, pushed against the filthy, brick wall of the dark dungeons.

"Now what makes you think you have the right to talk to me like that?" he whispered in her ear, his mouth teasingly close to her ear.

"You don't scare me like you used to," Hermione spoke evenly as he held onto her tightly, causing pain to spread through her body, which she tried desperately to ignore. "I'm not a young naive fifteen year old girl anymore. I know what this war is going to bring; death, destruction, depression. But I will tell you this now, you can torture me, you can hurt me, you can even kill me, but I will never give in. You won't get what you want from me."

The slightly demented death eater tightened his grip he had on Hermione as she spoke confidently for the first time in days. As he leaned back, she looked deeply into his eyes before opening her mouth to speak once again,

"I will do anything for my cause, even die, and when or if I do die, I will be taking you down with me."


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world or any of the characters which I write about. Everything is J.K Rowling's. I don't claim to possess anything. **

**A/N ** I don't particularly like writing A/N so this will probably be the only one for the next few chapters, but I just thought I would apologise for taking so long to update. There has been some stuff going on that I won't bore you with, but I promise to try and update quicker from now on. Please review.

** ...**

**Chapter 1**

'Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made. And he said unto the woman, Yea, hath God said, ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?'

– **The book of Genesis, Chapter 3 (King James Bible)**

** ...**

Hermione Granger was very good at contemplating how to handle difficult situations. It had gotten herself and her friends out of an awful lot of danger over the past five years in which she had known them. I am of course talking about Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley; the three of them making up the Golden Trio. She was the brains; the one who held the answers to all the difficult riddles; the girl who was not deemed as the 'saviour', but the one who created the opportunities for it to be possible to be saved. Yes, Hermione Granger was very good at contemplating how to handle difficult situations, but at this very moment in time, she just couldn't find a solution to the problem she was currently faced with.

Presently, she was sat on her comfortable bed, in her childhood home which she resided in with her parents. Her digital alarm clock shone through the darkness that filled her room, the luminous numbers flashing, reminding her that it was well past five in the morning. She was sat above the covers, her legs crossed underneath each other. She had been starring off into space which she could not see due to the lack of light. Much like she had every other night upon returning home from her fifth year at her school, Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Five days ago.

It was blatantly obvious to anyone who saw her that she was not sleeping well or possibly at all. Black circles overtook under her eyes, leaving them dull, paling in comparison to her former shining orbs. Her skin still held her slightly tanned colouring, though it had a pasty look to it due to her lack of sleep. She shut her eyes for only a few seconds, her head swaying to the right in exhaustion; however it wasn't long until her eyes were opened again; fear overtaking her should she fall asleep and experience the nightmares she would face.

The nightmares had been happening since she had awoken for the first time since being cursed unconscious in the Department of Mysteries after being hit with a harmful spell, cast by Antonin Dolohov. That was what her nightmare was about. She saw him; standing over her as she cowered backwards. Each nightmare showed them in a different setting though it was still the same scene being played over and over. He was leering at her. His wand pointed towards her. A smirk set on his face. He would always grab her wrist tightly; she would never anticipate the move. He would move his wand and dig it into her neck; she would never have the time to dodge the motion. He would reach down to whisper in her ear; she would always shiver with disgust.

"No one can help you now. You're mine mudblood," he would chuckle before taking his original up right position.

In her nightmare, Hermione would close her eyes at this point, awaiting those dreaded words that would end her life. That was when she would awake in her reality, sweating and shivering at the same time as she gasped for breath.

She experienced this nightmare three times in a row, the three remaining nights she had left in her fifth year at Hogwarts. After those three nights, she stopped sleeping altogether; trying to escape the evil in her mind.

** ...**

Less than a week had passed since that night. Hermione had still not slept, unless she were counting the several peaceful moments where she allowed herself to close her eyes, before she opened them once again in fear. She was barely living anymore. She was making the motions; merely existing.

"I'm leaving for the Weasley's tomorrow," Hermione stated abruptly as she looked up from her place at the dining table, where she and her family were eating breakfast. Her parent's heads lifted up to stare at their only child. "I know I've only been home for a little over a week, and I know you've barely seen me over the last year, or few years for that matter, but I have to leave."

"Maybe it would be better for you to stay here for a few weeks," her mother suggested softly. "You just need some more time to adjust into your old life."

"Mum," Hermione started, "I can't adjust back into this life after what I've seen. I need to spend some time with people who can understand what I'm going through."

"And we can't do that," Hermione's mother added to her daughters statement before standing up from her place, and leaving the room, obviously upset and hurt from her daughters words.

Her father watched his wife walk out of the dining room, before looking pityingly to his daughter, who was now looking ashamed at her brash words.

"I know you must find it difficult to talk to us, but you have to try and remember, your mother and I know very little about your world, because you chose not to tell us," her father said sadly.

"But I don't do it to be spiteful -"

"I know," her father cut her off with a wave of his hand, "and so does your mother, but it's not easy watching your only child be a part of something which we can't share." He sighed deeply before standing from his place and tucking his chair in. "I understand why you have to leave and be with your friends, and people who understand your world properly, but you have to consider your mothers and my feelings. You are our daughter, and despite the consequences, we want to know what is happening to you."

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered.

"You don't need to be sorry," her father reasoned. "You need help, and your mother and I aren't the ones to do that."

Her father left the room after giving Hermione a sad smile, leaving her to ponder in her thoughts by herself.

'_No one can help you now.'_

** ...**

A loud booming sound coming from down stairs made Hermione sit up abruptly from her place where she was laid on her bed. She quickly moved from her room, down stairs to locate the source of the sound. Opening the door to her living room, she soon found herself met by the sight of three familiar faces, dusting floo powder off of their robes.

"Hermione! Good-" greeted one of the identical Weasley twins as he saw she had entered the room, though she couldn't be certain whether it was Fred or George.

"- to see you!" finished the other twin, as they both stood grinning at Hermione.

"Fred, George," she greeted in return as she returned their smiles. "I didn't expect you two to be picking me up."

"We're full of surprises Granger," replied the twin on the left, who she now knew was Fred due to the small scar she could identify above his left eyebrow.

Hermione smiled serenely at them before turning to the other occupants who were stood alongside the twins.

"Mr Weasley, it's good to see you again," she said.

"You too my dear," he said back cheerfully. "Now, are your ready to go? Where are your parents?"

"I've already said goodbye to my parents. They couldn't reschedule any of their appointments, so they had to leave for work early this morning," Hermione answered trying to hide the sadness from her voice. "But I packed my trunk last night. I'll go get it; it's up in my room."

Hermione ran up the stairs quickly to retrieve her things. An empty feeling over took her as she stepped into her room. Her plain cream walls looked bare; though they had not changed. Her bed looked as though no one had ever slept in it; though she'd had it for over five years. It was empty.

She grabbed her trunk and lifted it off the ground before placing it just slightly outside of her room. Moving outside the room, she turned to look back on what she associated with her childhood.

A whisper sounded throughout the room as before she turned to leave, closing the door behind her;

"Goodbye."

_Flashback_

"_Will you be here to see me off tomorrow?" Hermione asked as she entered the living room demurely. After breaking the news that she was leaving for the Weasley's that very morning, she had spent the day sat in her room trying to distract herself of the problems in her family by packing away what felt to her like her life. Or at least one half of her life._

"_We have appointments scheduled all day at the surgery," her father replied softly. He turned to his wife as she grasped on to his hand before turning to their daughter._

"_If we had been given more notice of your," her mother took in a deep breath, "departure, we would have cancelled them."_

"_I am so sorry," Hermione cried out in a quiet voice, "but I have to do this."_

"_And I have to protect you," her mother replied fiercely. "You are my daughter. Do you have any idea what went through our heads when we heard you were injured and unconscious in the hospital wing? We weren't allowed to visit you, and no one would tell us the reason that our daughter, our only child, was in such a condition."_

"_We understand that you need people who are like you," her father said, "it's just hard to except. Like your mother said, we don't even know the full story of what happened."_

"_If I could tell you, I would," Hermione reasoned. "But I promise that eventually I will let you both know everything. Just not now."_

_Silence fell amongst the three Grangers. Hermione had tears rolling down her face as both her parents sat grasping on to each other's hands for support._

_Her mother stood abruptly before turning to look at her daughter again, a fake smile plastered on her face._

"_Dinner should be ready in half an hour." She dusted an imaginary piece of lint off of her top. "I would suggest you make sure you have everything packed for tomorrow."_

_Numbly, Hermione nodded her head._

** ...**

Hermione collided with the Weasley living room floor as she fell out of the fire place having travelled through the floo network. As she stood up and dusted her clothes off, she saw both Fred and George, who had left before her with her trunk, had moved to the side out of the way. She quickly moved out of the way in preparation for the return of Mr Weasley.

"Oh Hermione dear," Mrs Weasley called as she moved forward to embrace the girl. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Thanks Mrs Weasley," Hermione replied as she struggled to breath in the tight hold the older woman had on her.

"Be careful mum," came the voice of the youngest Weasley child, and only female on at that, Ginny, as she moved closer to her friend. "I think you're cutting off her air ways." Mrs Weasley released Hermione from the hug, just as Ginny embraced the girl almost immediately after she was freed. As she heard Mr Weasley floo back to the house, she felt herself free of the two female Weasley's and looking for Ron, one of her best friends. A few other people were dotted around the room, recognisably her old Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Remus Lupin, and the retired auror, Mad-eye Moody, along with several other members of the Order of the Phoenix, a society formed to help in the battle against the Dark Lord. She searched the room before her eyes met the same blue ones that she had been looking for.

Stood, only feet away from her, was one of her best friends and one of the few people who could understand what she was going through. A sigh of relief escaped her as she smiled at the boy, no, the man, stood in front of her, Ron Weasley.

"You look like hell," said Ron, breaking the silence that met the two friends, his voice travelling the distance between the pair, though he chose not to spoke as loud as he was recognised for.

"I haven't slept in over a week," Hermione replied honestly with a small laugh to his abrupt opening statement. "What's your excuse?"

"Almost all of my siblings are together under one roof," he justified, "what more of an excuse do I need?"

Hermione laughed for the first time in what felt like ages. They both walked towards each other, smiles present on their faces. Quickly, upon reaching each other, Ron reached down and pulled her into a tight hug.

"I'm so glad you're here," Ron muttered into her hair.

"The feeling's mutual," Hermione replied.

"I hate to break up this truly touching reunion after spending an entire week and a half apart," grunted Mad-Eye Moody sarcastically, "but there are pressing matters at hand," he continued, motioning towards the door that led to the Weasley family kitchen. He himself started marching towards the door, several of the members of the order who were also present in the room choosing to follow him, including many members of the Weasley family.

"It's really nice to have you hear Hermione," Mrs Weasley repeated before she stepped into the kitchen for the meeting.

"Apparently, we're the new, unofficial, headquarters to the Order of the Phoenix," Ron said in Hermione's ear as they both watched people enter the other room. "Mind you, I don't remember any of my considerations been taken into account when that decision was made."

Hermione inwardly snorted.

"I don't think any of our considerations have been taken into account," she replied almost bitterly.

Ron smiled softly at her.

"Come on," he said as he picked up the trunk Fred had left by the fireplace upon returning to the Burrow. "We'll take this upstairs."

The two friends made their way up stairs, Ginny opting to give them some time by themselves as she stayed down in the living room.

"So how have you been," Ron asked as he placed Hermione's trunk by her bed in Ginny's room.

"Tired," she replied as she sat down at the top of her bed in the familiar room. "You have no idea how happy I am to be back."

Ron grinned as he sat down opposite her on the bed.

"So what's been going on here?" Hermione asked as the pair tried to catch up.

"Nothing really, other than the order meetings, but with Fred and George allowed in them, me and Ginny have no way of listening in," Ron replied remorsefully.

"I can't believe your mother let them join," Hermione commented.

"Believe me, she gave them an earful," Ron snorted. "But, they are of age, and in the end she knew it was their own decision."

Hermione stared at her friend with a serene smile on her face.

"What?" Ron questioned as he noticed Hermione looking at him with what he classed as a strange expression.

"Nothing," she replied wistfully. "You just seem so much older, more mature, yet only a few weeks have passed."

"Someone trying to kill you can change that about you," he joked. "Besides, I had to grow up. How else am I going to protect the people I love? You and Harry, you're like the brother and sister I actually wanted."

Hermione's smile grew wider as she moved closer to him and hugged him again.

This was where she belonged. With her family.

** ...**

As the Order of the Phoenix meeting finished, and people gradually began apparating away and leaving to go back to their own lives, Mrs Weasley found herself looking for one specific person.

"Severus," she called softly as she moved towards the dark and mysterious Potions Professor. "Hermione arrived today."

"I don't quite understand what Miss Grangers visit could possibly have to do with me," the Professor replied shortly.

"I can see that she's not sleeping," Mrs Weasley replied. "And I thought that was something you might be able to help with."

"She is no concern of mine," Professor Snape replied as he made to move away from the conversation.

"She's a child," Mrs Weasley called out as Snape turned to leave the room, dismissing everything he had just heard. "She's too young to be going through this; they all are." The woman sighed before looking up at the Hogwarts professor. "She needs to sleep."

The man she was speaking to nodded.

"I will return in a few hours with a potion to help, though I know it will not work," he replied in his bleak tone. "Much like you do. Which begs the question; why bother?"

"We can help her. She needs to face these nightmares; these fears. After that, we can help her."

"No you can't," came the empty voice of the Professor. "You can't begin to comprehend how to help her."

** ...**

Several hours had passed since the order meeting had finished. Hermione sat alone in her shared room with the only female Weasley child, Ginny. It felt like she was alone a lot of the time now.

"Hermione dear," started Mrs Weasley as she entered the girls bedroom, "Professor Snape is here to see you."

"Professor Snape?" questioned Hermione, shock on her face having heard her potion masters name.

"Yes," the older women replied gently. "He's waiting down in the kitchen. I've made sure you two have the room to yourself."

Hermione thanked Mrs Weasley before leaving the room after walking down the stairs towards the kitchen. Mrs Weasley had left her too make the short journey by herself as she went up to talk to her husband in the attic.

Cautiously, Hermione made her way down to the kitchen. The door was open, and as she walked in to the room, she saw the potions professor that many were scared of, stood by the counter top.

"Miss Granger," he greeted with a small nod.

"Professor," she replied, "you wanted to see me."

"Yes." He motioned with his finger for her to sit on the chair on the far side of the kitchen, opposite where he stood. Though there was a chair and table between them, you could here the other breath due to the silence in the room.

"You're not sleeping," the Professor stated.

Hermione knew he wasn't asking a question, and after being taught by him for five years, she knew better than to lie to him.

"No sir." She breathed deeply. "I was having nightmares. I figured if I didn't sleep, they could no longer haunt me."

"That was a foolish mistake," the Professor replied. "I presume the nightmares were about the events of the night when you children irrationally chose to make a visit to the Ministry of Magic."

"Not quite sir," Hermione said quietly. "I can see him. Dolohov. He's everywhere. It's like I can't do anything without him watching me."

Professor Snape didn't reply.

For the longest time only silence met the room.

Hermione looked down at the table. She sat quietly in her seat, her eyes glancing up for only a second at a time, to ensure the man she wanted to talk to was still present.

"You never did tell me what the curse I was hit with was," Hermione said to her Potions Professor carefully.

"Was that your way of asking me a question, or merely you just stating the obvious?" the Professor replied in a malicious tone.

Hermione rang her hands together in a circular motion.

"Oh just spit it out girl," Snape drawled as he rolled his eyes at her behaviour.

"What-" started Hermione before breaking off and looking away from her Professor. "What was the curse that I was hit with?" she asked after summoning up some strength.

"The curse is called _Maligna Dolor_," Snape recalled. "Dolohov formed the curse back in the first war. He wanted to draw out his victim's pain."

"Oh." Hermione's head dropped down and she breathed in a large amount of air to try and calm and relax her. "So the nightmare's..."

"The nightmares," the Professor started to reply, "are your subconscious. They're not part of the curse, just the backlash."

"So there's no way to make them stop?" Hermione asked, desperation detected in her voice.

"Not in any obvious way. No incantation or potion can help deal with what is inside your mind." He watched as confusion took over her face. "Like most nightmares, this constant reoccurring one you appear to be having, is linked with your fear of the man who is now haunting your dreams. To get rid of the nightmares, I would suggest getting over your fear."

"And how would you suggest getting over my fears?" Hermione asked, feeling angry that he could be dismissive over her experiences.

"Like the rest of us have for the last twenty years," the professor answered in a dark voice, reminding her of who she was talking too. "You need to open your eyes to the fact that we are at war. You came out better than most." He leant forward so that his hands were resting on the kitchen table and leered over her. "Wake up."

He reached in to his robe pocket, placed directly over his chest.

"This is the highest form of sleeping draught." He placed it on the table in the centre, right in front of where she was sat. "Take it half an hour before you got to bed, it should help you repel the nightmares for a short amount of time before your body becomes too used to the formula."

He turned towards the door that led to the outside world, beyond the house that Hermione felt so safe and comfortable in.

"Sir," she called out before he could leave the room. He stopped though he did not turn round to face her. "Thank you."

He opened the door and walked out of the small home without another word or with any indication that he had heard her other than the fact that he had stopped his original exit.

** ...**

Hermione looked over to where Ginny Weasley slept peacefully in her small single bed. She looked on with envy that the younger girl could sleep so soundly without any fears.

She had already consumed the potion she had received earlier from Professor Snape; almost an hour ago to be exact. She lay in bed contemplating what the worst possible outcome could be. She had already experienced the nightmares; it would be no different this time if for whatever reason the sleeping draught didn't work. Hermione closed her eyes for a mere few seconds in sheer exhaustion.

"I'll be fine," she whispered softly to herself before letting sleep overcome her.

A bright light fell on her. She was frozen. Paralyzed in a trance. Her feet couldn't move.

"It's been too long precious," a voice called.

It was male. One that she had heard before. One that she had dreamt before.

"You've been avoiding me," it said, speaking again.

His words echoed off of the walls. She couldn't see anything other than the blinding light that had been placed on her.

"You should know that you can't escape me." This time when he spoke, he stepped forward, standing directly in front of her, giving her a clear view of her captor. Antonin Dolohov. He was different to when she briefly saw him in the Department of Mysteries. He looked cleaner, well fed, younger. But his eyes, they held a demented look about them. They were the wounds he held from Azkaban. His physical appearance had gradually begun to change back to its former state, but his eyes where just so cruel; menacing. He clicked his fingers with a smirk, and the light disappeared.

"You should have listened to me," he taunted as he slowly circled her, taking a predatory role. "No one can help you," he whispered in to her ear as he stood behind her, pressed against her back. "But you went against what I said, so now everything has to change."

He was stood in front of her again. Hermione couldn't speak. She felt a tear roll down her face. He moved his finger to her cheek to graze the tear away. He held the finger to his lips and licked the salty liquid.

"Your fear is delicious," he commented. "But I have a feeling your pain is going to be much more enticing."

He looked down on the girl with a soft smile, one that took her so off guard that she didn't even notice him pulling out his wand. He pointed it into her hip as her eyes grew wide.

"Crucio."

Screams surrounded her dreams.

Screams surrounded the burrow.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world or any of the characters which I write about. Everything is J.K Rowling's. I don't claim to possess anything. **

**A/N:** I'm really sorry about the wait, but I won't bore you with excuses, so here's the next chapter. Hope you like it, and let me know what you think.

** ...**

**Chapter 2**

'And the woman said unto the serpent, we may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden'

- **The book of Genesis, Chapter 3 (King James's Bible)**

** ...**

The events that had transpired had left everyone in shock. Hermione was the strong one. She was the one who held everyone together despite whatever may be happening; but not this time.

Her screams were ones of terror, echoing around the entire Burrow, waking all the occupants staying under the roof. They rushed towards the source of the sound in a frantic rush, all arriving at the same place; Ginny and Hermione's shared bedroom. Ginny was pushing against her bedroom wall in sheer terror; staring with horror as Hermione's body quivered and shook on the bed as though she were having an epileptic fit. As Mr Weasley stepped forward into the room and towards Hermione's bed, he could see a small trickle of crimson, red blood leave the corner of her mouth, dripping down her chin until landing ungracefully on her over-sized, white shirt which she slept in. Mrs Weasley stood in the door frame, the majority of her sons stood behind her with concern, as her hand covered her mouth to keep in the gasp that was threatening to escape from her lips.

"Dad," Ron called out with fear as he moved passed his mother and in to the room. "What's happening to her?"

Mr Weasley looked up at his son before staring back down at the spasming girl.

"It looks as though she's being put under the Cruciatus curse," he answered softly.

Immediately, upon hearing those words, Ron leapt forwards to help his friend.

"Ron!" called his mother as she watched her youngest son. She leapt forwards and reached out her arm to grab on to her youngest son. "Don't touch her," she said nervously as she brought him towards the door. "You could be put under the curse as well."

"AHHH!" Hermione screamed even louder and more ferociously that what she already had. The Weasley's watched, eyed wide, as blood started to appear from a large cut through her shirt. The red stained the white quickly, and soon blood was appearing from every angle.

"Dad you need to help her!" Ron cried out with worry escaping from his voice as he looked on in concern to one of his best friends. Both his parents stood still with pure shock; neither moving toward the distressed young teen being cursed into delirious pain. "Do something!" he cried out with more force.

"Son, there's nothing we can do," Mr Weasley replied to his youngest son with regret. "There's no way to break the curse's connection since we don't know where it's coming from."

"But, it could drive her to insanity, couldn't it?" asked Ginny, speaking for the first time, her voice quivering though not from her fearful shaking but her worry at the daunting reality of her question. "Even kill her?"

Hermione's screams stopped. The blood that had poured out from her body and stained both her body and clothing was slowly returning through her open wounds.

For the first time since the fearful cries of the frightened girl had echoed around the burrow awakening those sleeping peacefully under its roof, silence set upon the group; though it was not necessarily any better than hearing Hermione's pain.

"What do we do? asked Mrs Weasley looking around. Almost all of her children were staring back at her; Charlie was unable to return due to his commitments in Romania where he was helping with the European organisation, and Percy had chosen to tie himself to the corrupt Ministry of Magic and their misleading beliefs, rather than the differing ones of his own family.

"If we leave her asleep, she could be put under the same curse or even worse," Bill replied with his strong masculine voice, trying to console his family with a re-assuring, strong tone. "But if we wake her, the healing that is somehow taking place, may be stopped, and we may not be able to cure her completely from the damage to her body."

"We can't just leave her." Ron resolved strenuously. "Not once has she ever left me or Harry to suffer, and I'm not just going to stand here whilst she is obviously in pain."

"Son," the patriarch of the family, Mr Weasley, addressed Ron, staring at him with a sense of pride as he saw how much he had grown up and matured, "if we attempt to do anything before the healing process completes itself we may risk hurting her more than she already is."

"But how do we know she is being healed?" asked Fred, George nodding his head in agreement; both having been uncharacteristically quiet. "We don't even know if she is getting better, or why she is."

"I guess the only thing we can do is wait, and try to make sure we're prepared for when she does wake up," Mr Weasley replied.

"Prepared for what though?" Ginny asked.

The unanswered, ominous question left a sense of dark unsettling emotions amongst the group.

**...**

"Please," Hermione pleaded with her captor as she collapsed onto the ground; the most painful spell having just been taking off of her. "Please, just make it stop. I'm begging you."

"Awe," the unmasked death eater drawled cruelly. "Does the mudblood want me stop?" he baited.

"It hurts so badly," she cried, tears strolling down her face.

Dolohov laughed loudly, his head thrown back with jubilation. Crouching down to her level, he pulled her up onto her feat, his laugh still loudly escaping his mouth as Hermione tries to keep her body form lolling around.

"You're pathetic," he sneered grabbing onto the bleeding wound on her stomach and grasping it tightly so that she once again cried out with agony.

"You think this is pain?!" he screamed; his voice vibrating off the walls. "You think this is pain!" he repeated as he watched the blood spread further on her body.

Collapsing into his arms, Hermione allowed herself to gasp, attempting to take in deep breaths. More pain shot through her body as the blood slowly disappeared, though the anguish continued to wash through her.

"See," Dolohov started as she leant against him with an absent-mind as she suffered in despair, "this precious body of your needs to be put through all this pain so you can learn your place, but all those ugly scars that would be left serve no purpose to me what so ever," he continued, his mouth so close to her ear that as he spoke he nipped at her earlobe, as his finger trailed down the side of her body making her shiver at his touch. "After all, how would that benefit me, since I'm going to be the one looking at you?" he asked rhetorically.

Hermione pulled away from him as she slowly felt more energy return to her body once her blood was restored, though she still felt shaky; quaking slightly as she no longer had the ground or another person to lean herself against.

"Oh come on now Princess, don't be like that," Dolohov smirked as he stepped towards her, forcing her to take a step back, their eyes never straying from the other persons. "You and I are going to be getting to know each other a lot better over time, and you trying to escape me all the time, is just going to make me even more angry, and you don't want to make me angry, do you?" he asked as he continually stepped further towards her, gradually pushing Hermione against the wall, towering over her small frame.

"Get away from me," Hermione tried to shout but her voice was to hoarse from all of her previous screaming. Pushing her arms out she tried to move his body from her own, but finding both her physical and emotional strength had weakened considerably since the attack, she was unable to deter him.

"Have it you way," Dolohov sighed as he stepped back.

Pulling her arms around her body, Hermione hugged herself in order to find some comfort as she was still experiencing the turmoil.

"I guess I'll see you next time," he said with a knowing smirk. "Sweet dreams," he whispered as he walked towards her, kissing her roughly on the lips, as his fingers left bruises on her forearms where he gripped her tightly to hold her in place ]in his wake.

His form disappeared from Hermione's eyes, though not her mind as she allowed herself to cry properly, as she felt her body be engulfed in arms other than her tormentors or her own.

"You're awake!" she heard Ron call as he pulled her into his arms as he climbed onto her bed. She opened her eyes to see the entire Weasley family staring back at her with concern.

"I'm back?" Hermione whispered, asking for clarification. "I'm actually back?"

"You're back; you're safe," Ron soothed as he pulled her closer to his and stroked her hair softly.

"I was so scared," Hermione cried, breaking down in her friends arms. "It hurt so much."

"We called for Professor Snape," announced Mr Weasley as he spoke softly to the pair who were still embracing. "He's on his way so that he can assess any damage."

"He healed me," Hermione stated fairly evenly as she unwound herself from her best friend.

"Who did?" asked Molly as she approached the teenager who at the present moment looked much more like a scared little girl.

"Antonin Dolohov," she replied as a breath was taken in by everyone as they heard the renowned death eater's name uttered by Hermione. "He said," she started before crying out again, "he said he didn't want to cause any scars to be left on my body," she said trying to compose herself, "just the pain."

Mrs Weasley's hand flew to her mouth in shock as tears threatened to fall. Her husband put a comforting arm around his wife's shoulder in order to try to help bring her some composure.

"Oh you poor dear," she said as she tried to hold back the moisture falling from her eyes.

Silence met the room, the only noise being heard was the occasional sob that broke free from Hermione as she stayed in Ron's strong embrace.

"You're safe," he muttered trying to keep her calm. "You're safe here."

**...**

"I think I need something a bit stronger than tea," Mrs Weasley said to her husband as he placed a full tea cup in front of her as she sat in stony shock at the kitchen table in her unusually quiet family home, staring into space.

Her husband chuckled without any laughter as he went towards one of the kitchen cupboards and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey from behind other products, before pulling out two small glasses from another cupboard.

Sitting down next to his wife, he placed the products in his hands on the table and poured both himself and his wife a drink.

Upon the potion professor's arrival at the small home both she and Mr Weasley had moved downstairs in order to give Severus the space he needed to work. Ron however, was not as easily swayed and refused to leave the room, even as the rest of his siblings left for their own beds, Ginny going to the twins room; though sleep seemed far out of reach for all of them.

"They're just children," Mrs Weasley said, her voice shaking as she drank from her glass of alcohol. "They shouldn't be experiencing this or seeing any of it for that matter."

"We can't protect them forever," her husband replied wisely, following her lead and drinking from his own glass.

"Why?" she asked expressively. "Why can't we allow our children to just be children?"

"Because you're not naive enough to believe you could actually stop them from fighting in this war," came the harsh drawl of Severus Snape as he stepped down off of the last stair and walked into the kitchen. In the harsh light, the bags under his eyes were even more evident than usual; the strain and stress of the present war leaving its mark on his tired, overstressed, ragged body.

"Oh Severus," cried Mrs Weasley standing up from her seat, "how is she? If I had known how bad the nightmares were, I never would have asked you to give her anything. I just thought it -"

The wave of the professor's hand stopped her in her tracks.

"Miss Granger has suffered under the attack of a very severe Cruciatus curse, however any external and internal wounds have been healed," Professor Snape answered. "It would appear the only damage left remaining would be that of fear, for which I have given her a calming drought in order to help her fear become more mild."

"Severus," Mr Weasley spoke up, "Hermione mentioned about Dolohov being there, almost as though he were real."

"That's because he is," was the cynical man's reply. "He's invading her mind when it's the most vulnerable; when she's asleep."

"I didn't realise that things were this bad," Molly whispered. "If I had thought they were more than just normal nightmares, I would never have allowed you to give her anything."

"That," the professor drawled in reply, "is unfortunate, because now the mistake, has already been made." Putting his hands on the table in front of his, he eyed both the concerned adults and parents of seven in front of him. "He's gotten all the access he needs now to continue."

**...**

Hermione sat up in bed, her head resting against the headboard. Ron lay next to her, awake much like herself, though making no indication that talk was necessary between them. Feeling a strong firm hand grasp her own, she looked down to see Ron had taken hold of hers.

She looked up to smile at him softy, though weak as she still found her body immersed in pain.

"We shouldn't tell Harry about this when he gets here," Hermione said as she looked away from his concerned face.

"Hermione, I don't think that's such a good idea," Ron argued, though didn't push, knowing his friend was not being her usual self.

"He already has enough to worry about," she replied. "Sirius's death..." Hermione started before trailing off and turning back to look at him. "He's already living with enough guilt, he doesn't need this on top of that."

Ron looked down at his friend and took and deep breath as he shook his head, opening his mouth to speak.

"Please," she added with a small voice. "I can't be one more reason for his to be hurting. We both know that he has to be in pain, and we promised. We promised five years ago that we would always stand by him. We can't give him more ammunition to walk away."

"Okay," Ron conceded begrudgingly as he leant his head on top of hers. "I promised him, and now I'm promising you. We don't tell Harry."

Hermione nodded her head as she allowed herself to smile as she acknowledged his agreement,

"We don't tell Harry."


End file.
